


expectations

by trivia_love



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: ...kinda?, Canon Compliant, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Introspection, Light Angst, and he doesn't really know what he's doing, but that's okay, peter is under a lot of pressure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28732590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trivia_love/pseuds/trivia_love
Summary: Maybe Fury is right.Peter had done everything he could to avoid being a part of this. He’d tried to shirk his responsibility, to defy Nick Fury and let the world burn because of him. Whether he likes it or not, Peter had made a choice when he had put on the mask for the first time, when he was fourteen. He had made a commitment to being a hero, to standing up for what’s right and to defending the people who cannot defend themselves. He has no right to pick and choose when he wants to be a hero, and when he wants to sit back. It’s not a part-time job.(Or, in the immediate aftermath of the fire elemental fight, Peter reflects on why he's there.)
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Quentin Beck & Peter Parker
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	expectations

The residual heat from the fire elemental still burns hot as Peter stands in the plaza. It’s over. Beck has neutralised the threat; Beck is _alive_. His sacrifice play has shaken Peter to his core, reminded him a bit too much of a snap of Tony’s fingers.

But— Fury’s here, now, and he’s giving Peter what is essentially an ‘ _I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’_ talk. If it was coming from anyone else, Peter wouldn’t be phased, but the scolding coming from Nick Fury’s mouth chips away at his confidence like nothing he’s known before. He stands in front of Fury and feels like the man is scrutinising every single thing about him. He probably is. Peter hates it.

“Maybe Stark was wrong,” Fury says, and out of everything Fury’s said to him, _that_ hurts Peter the most, “was he?”

But, maybe Fury is right.

Peter had done everything he could to avoid being a part of this. He’d tried to shirk his responsibility, to defy _Nick Fury_ and let the world burn because of him. Whether he likes it or not, Peter had made a _choice_ when he had put on the mask for the first time, when he was fourteen. He had made a commitment to being a hero, to standing up for what’s right and to defending the people who cannot defend themselves. He has no right to pick and choose when he wants to be a hero, and when he wants to sit back. It’s not a part-time job.

Maybe Tony was wrong.

Peter doesn’t want to admit it. The thought of him wasting Tony’s time and resources is so upsetting that it makes him want to break down sobbing. The thought of Tony believing in Peter, touting him around as his protégé—as his _kid_ —and giving him access to EDITH only for Peter to disappoint him, to try to skip out on the most important mission he’d had to undertake since Tony had left him— _god_ , it devastates Peter.

Peter had thought he was getting better at dealing with what happened to Tony, until Europe and Fury and the elementals. This whole situation has ripped open old wounds and dragged him back to where he was seven months ago, grieving and grieving and _grieving_ for the loss of his mentor and the loss of five years and the loss of part of himself.

And it’s hard, it’s so _hard_ , because no matter where he goes or what he does there’s always a reminder of Tony and Tony’s _death_ lurking just around the corner.

It’s amateur drawings of Iron Man plastered up on his classroom walls in remembrance, Tony’s name blaring in news reports, Tony’s _face_ haunting him on billboards and street art. He can’t even get away from it in Europe, because everywhere he looks there’s someone wearing an Iron Man shirt or a kid kneeling down to lay a candle at a vigil for Tony and it makes Peter so irrationally _angry_ because what gives these people the right to be so upset? Tony fought battles for them. They saw his carefully crafted media persona through interviews and press conferences. But they didn’t know _Tony_ , not like Peter did. They mourn for the loss not of Tony, but of a protector. Of Iron Man.

He wishes he could just curl up and cry for a few months to get his head in order, but he can’t. He can’t, because none of that matters to anyone else, because they all just expect him to be _okay_. They all expect him to be _fine_ when Tony’s death was a chilling affirmation that anyone who he’s emotionally attached to is destined for an early grave.

It’s his fault, it’s always his fault. Ben died because of him, and whatever’s pulling the strings in his life must have the sickest sense of humor because really, it’s his fault that Tony’s dead, too.

Pepper had told him, at the funeral. Peter knows that she was trying to comfort him, make him feel less like his heart was physically tearing in two, but it made it worse. Oh, _so_ much worse.

_“He did it for you, sweetheart,” she had said softly, a sad smile on her face as she grasped his hand, “you’re the reason half of the universe is alive, that everyone came back.”_

He wishes Pepper hadn’t said it.

 _You’re the reason Tony’s dead_ , he’d heard instead, _if it wasn’t for you, Morgan would still have a dad. He’d be happy and thriving and alive and doing more good for this world in a week than you will in your entire life._

And he knows that May and Ned and Happy and now MJ are in danger because of him, that even _association_ with Peter Parker brings your chance of a tragic death from extremely improbable to very likely. But— he’s too selfish to let them go. Too selfish to cut them off and save them in the process, because he doesn’t know what he’d do without them. He wonders how long it will take for him to regret it, how long until the next person he loves meets a sickening end because of _him_.

Peter’s sixteen years old and he’s so scared and traumatised and _broken_ and he just wants to be a kid— please, he just wants to be a kid.

He wants to be normal, wants to enjoy a school trip without having to save the world. He doesn’t _like_ the big time hero stuff. He’s comfortable dealing with small-time criminals and lost old ladies and taking photos with tourists. He _can’t_ — he can’t do the whole _fate of the universe_ thing. It’s too much.

But it doesn’t matter what he thinks. Doesn’t matter what upsets him, or what he thinks is _too much_. He’s a superhero. Tony put so much faith in him, and he can’t let him down. The world has so much faith in him, and he can’t let them down, either. He has to sacrifice his happiness and comfort and stability because the world needs Spider-Man. He can’t give it up, can’t hang up the mask and walk away, because too many people are counting on him.

Peter doesn’t have a choice. He doesn’t feel like he has much of a choice in anything, lately.

He’s sixteen years old, and isn’t that a bit too young for his life to be spiralling out of control? Isn’t that a bit too young for all of this pressure, and these expectations that he’s never going to be able to fulfil? How can you fill the shoes of a man who sacrificed himself to save half of the universe?

He forgets that, in situations like this, he represents Tony, too. From now on, he’s forever linked to Tony, because he believed in Peter, championed him, died because of him. People like Fury are going to know that, always, and whatever Peter does is going to be a reflection on Tony’s character, too. People will build up their expectations for Peter, and judge a dead man when they’re not met simply because he thought his kid could do _anything_.

_How pathetic of you, Stark, to believe in a child who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. How pathetic, that the fate of our planet comes in second to him spending time with a girl. This is your protégé, Iron Man? …This?_

“Let’s get a drink,” Beck says, breaking Peter from his spiralling thoughts as he gives the teenager a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. He reminds Peter of Tony, strong and witty and comforting.

Tony’s gone, forever, and Peter can’t change that. But Beck—who’s experienced and level-headed and _knows what the hell he’s doing_ —brings Peter a kind of relief he didn’t know he needed. Him being here lifts an incredible weight from Peter’s shoulders, and for once he’s elated about not being the best in the room: the strongest, or smartest, or most powerful. Beck’s here, and he’s exactly the kind of hero that the world needs, which means Peter doesn’t have to be. He doesn’t have to step up and disappoint everyone when he’s not as good as Tony, nothing like Tony, doesn’t even come close. Beck’s here, and he can do that, and he can live up to it.

Maybe everything will be okay, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> everything was not, in fact, okay after all
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kaplanverse) if you're into that


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